


There's a First Time for Everything

by Piscaria



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, PWP, kink:intercrural sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-17
Updated: 2010-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/pseuds/Piscaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has never touched another man's cock. Merlin can fix that for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a First Time for Everything

"I've never touched another man's cock," Arthur protested.

Merlin stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Yes, I am actually, Merlin." Then the full import of Merlin's sentence hit him, and Arthur sputtered with less-than-princely dignity. "Wait – you mean. You have?"

"Well, yeah," Merlin said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wanked with your mates?"

Arthur felt something in his stomach drop at the suggestion. His mates, before Merlin came, were Bors and Geraint. Unbidden, he pictured two of them in his chambers, legs sprawled apart, trousers undone, fists working furiously on their cocks.

"That's disgusting," he said, with conviction he didn't quite feel. Arthur didn't see much of Geraint and Bors outside of training these days. Truth be told, Arthur spent most of his time with Merlin – supervising him, of course, since otherwise, the lazy clod might never get his work done. But Merlin was staring at him like he was a mythical beast. Like he, Arthur, was the strange one, and not Merlin, who – he was rambling at the mouth again now – had apparently spent half his youth with his hand down his friend Will's breeches.

"Merlin," Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There are some things I really don't need to know about you."

Merlin shut his mouth on whatever he was going to add to the history of his childhood exploration. "Sorry, Sire," he mumbled instead, and set himself to clearing Arthur's dinner dishes. While gathering the table linens into a pile, a new thought seemed to hit him, and he straightened, turning back to Arthur.

Perched on the window, eating an apple, Arthur quirked at eyebrow at him.

Merlin blushed, biting his lip. "You . . . you have before. With a girl. Right?"

Drawing up in indignation, Arthur threw the apple core at Merlin – it hit one high cheekbone and bounced off, rolling beneath the table. They both ignored it. Merlin, hardened from his time in the stocks, didn't even bother wiping away the apple juice sliding down his cheek.

"Sorry," he said, hands up. "I just . . . um . . . yeah. I'll shut up now."

Arthur only snorted, and settled back on the window ledge. Through the corner of his eye, he watched Merlin finally wipe at his face with Arthur's dinner napkin. True to his word, Merlin stayed quiet as cleared the dinner service out of the room. He stayed silent when he returned, a while later, to tend the fire and turn back the covers on Arthur's bed. The silence felt fragile, though, as if he were on the verge of speaking, but holding himself back. Arthur felt Merlin's eyes on him as he worked, and he swallowed, uncomfortably. Normally they talked in the evenings. Merlin chattered incessantly about the other servants, his chores for Gaius, whatever bit of gossip he'd picked up in the corridors. Arthur, in turn, listened and mocked him in equal degrees, sometimes offering his own anecdotes from training or the weekly border patrol. Though he'd never admit it, Arthur looked forward to his evenings with Merlin, to being himself, for once, and not the crown prince of Camelot. This silence between them felt strained. Arthur wanted to break it, but the words died in his throat whenever he tried to speak.

Finally, as Merlin opened the wardrobe to find Arthur's bedclothes, he said, "You can, you know."

"What?" Arthur asked, too quickly.

Merlin's back was to him, but Arthur saw his ears flare red. "Touch another man's cock," Merlin clarified, and gods, the back of his neck was red, too, now, above his neckerchief. 'If you want to see what it's like," Merlin added.

He spoke nonchalantly, as if it didn't make a difference to him either way. But Arthur caught the nervousness in his shoulders, in the way Merlin's hand pulled at the seam of his trousers – he was preparing for rejection, for Arthur to tease him, mock him for the offer.

Arthur opened his mouth to let him down gently. What came out instead was, "Yeah. Okay."

"Really?" Merlin turned to stare at him, all blue eyes and high cheekbones. His Adam's apple was bobbing up in down in his throat.

Arthur nodded, not giving himself time to back out, or to think what an incredibly stupid idea this was. "Why not?" He tried to sound casual, indifferent. "I should know what it's like, right?"

"Yeah," Merlin said, nodding quickly. "Exactly. He smiled shyly, and something in Arthur's heart twisted, so when Merlin stepped toward him, reaching for the ties to his breeches, Arthur stopped him, holding up his hands. Merlin had undressed him hundreds of times, but that was different, this was different, and Arthur thought Merlin might have too much of an upper hand as it was.

"Wait," Arthur said. "Undress yourself first."

Merlin stared at him a moment, red-cheeked and surprised. Arthur half expected him to protest. But instead, Merlin reached for his neckerchief, fumbling it off with nervous fingers. His neck caught Arthur's eyes – he'd seen Merlin without the neckerchief before, but never often, and never before had he been free to stare like this, at Merlin's jutting collarbone, the pale, smooth skin of his throat. Still blushing furiously, Merlin slipped his fingers into the hem of shirt. He drew it quickly up and over his head, exposing his pale stomach, his slight chest, lightly dusted with hair. His arms were stronger than Arthur would have guessed – skinny, yes, but corded with lean muscle. Without meeting Arthur's eyes, Merlin balanced awkwardly on one foot while he pulled off one boot, then the other. Standing barefoot on the stone floor, Merlin glanced up unexpectedly and met Arthur's eyes. His face held a curious mixture of embarrassment and desire, and Arthur felt himself swallow, leaning forward, slightly, as Merlin began to peel off his trousers and his underwrap at the same time. Merlin's hipbones were sharp, his thighs lean, and his cock . . . Arthur bit his lip. Merlin's cock was fuller than he might have guessed, and half-hard already, the rosy tip beginning to peek through the foreskin.

Arthur made a soft sound in his throat, and a nervous smile flickered across Merlin's face. Naked, he crossed the room to stand in front of Arthur, and reached for his tunic. Normally Arthur kept still when Merlin dressed and undressed him, only raising his arms or lifting his feet as necessary. Generally, they did this without really looking at each other. But Merlin was naked in front of him now, all pale skin and lithe muscle, and Arthur, who'd been dressed and undressed by servants for as long as he could remember, suddenly felt nervous, almost virginal. He wasn't sure what to do with himself, where to look, where to put his hands. He never touched Merlin while being undressed, but now, not touching him felt cowardly somehow.

Arthur lifted his arms so Merlin could strip away his tunic. Merlin had stepped closer for this, their bare chests almost touching. Lowering his arms, Arthur hesitantly settled his hands on Merlin's shoulders. Merlin glanced at his hands, then back at his face, a small smile playing on his full lips. Emboldened, Arthur smoothed one hand down Merlin's arm, then back up, traced a finger down the line of Merlin's spine. Shivering, Merlin stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, but slowly, as though he feared Arthur might rebuke him.

Unbidden, Arthur thought of the last time Merlin had tried to hug him, and his own defensive response. Their eyes met, and from the sudden quirk in Merlin's mouth, Arthur knew that he, too, was remembering it. Arthur's own mouth twitched, and then Merlin snickered, and suddenly they were howling with laughter.

"You . . . your face!" Merlin managed, then started laughing again. Arthur swatted his naked bum, too breathless to manage a proper retort. Still chuckling, Merlin rested his forehead on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur gathered him close, his hands smoothing up and down Merlin's quaking back and shoulders. Merlin squeezed him, hard, something almost triumphant in the gesture. Drawing back slightly, they smiled at each other, the nervousness of before broken.

Still dimpled, grinning, Merlin reached between them to unlace Arthur's breeches. He reached in, palming Arthur's burgeoning erection and awkwardly taking it into his fist. Arthur released a shuddering breath as Merlin stroked him once, twice, his movements confined by the fabric of Arthur's underwrap and breeches.

"You feel so good," Arthur murmured into the hot skin of Merlin's neck. He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there to the junction of Merlin's neck and shoulder, tonguing Merlin's skin, nipping gently at it, and Merlin shuddered, his hand stilling inside Arthur's breeches. His eyes were dark as he slipped his hand out, all wide pupils and smoldering blue.

"Bed," he said, a little breathlessly.

Arthur nodded, gripping Merlin by the elbow and leading him to the bed, practically shoving him onto the mattress. Laughing softly, Merlin sprawled out on the mattress, all long limbs and sharp angles. His cock was hard against his stomach, a little trail of pre-come streaking Merlin's pale skin. Biting his lip, Arthur struggled out of his own boots and trousers. Merlin sat up to watch him, leaning forward slightly, as Arthur balanced on one foot, then the other. Naked fondness showed on Merlins' face as he watched him, and Arthur felt himself reddening at the unabashed affection in the other man's eyes.

When, finally naked, Arthur climbed onto the bed, Merlin opened his arms to him. Smiling, Arthur allowed himself to be drawn into another warm embrace. He nuzzled Merlin's neck, kissed the pointed lines of his collarbone, ran his hands freely over Merlin's hips, his thighs, the swell of his arse. Merlin's cock was trailing wet patterns across Arthur's belly. Arthur's own erection was heavy against Merlin's hip.

"I want to touch you," Arthur breathed in his ear, catching Merlin's earlobe between his teeth as he did. That was what this was about, after all – touching another man's cock.

"Okay," Merlin said, nodding eagerly, looking faintly ridiculous, and Arthur grinned, ruffling his hair because he could. Merlin scowled, but his heart clearly wasn't in it. Glancing at the pillows piled at the head of Arthur's bed, Merlin nodded, as though coming to a decision, and shoved Arthur towards them.

"Lean back," he said.

"Yes, Sire," Arthur quipped, nonetheless, doing as Merlin said. He knelt at the head of the bed, spreading his knees wide, and leaned back against the pillows. His cock strained up towards his belly, aching and hot. settled between Arthur's legs, leaning back against his chest. Arthur wrapped his arms around him from behind, and Merlin sighed, relaxing into the embrace. The long, knobby line of his spine pressed back against Arthur's hard cock, and Arthur rolled his hips a little, rocking up against Merlin's back.

"I thought it might be easier this way," Merlin murmured, and Arthur nodded because yes, it was. It would be almost like touching himself this way, and Merlin was brilliant for thinking of it, brilliant for thinking up this whole endeavor. He really is a lot smarter than I give him credit for, Arthur thought, but didn't say so, of course. Instead, he kissed the nape of Merlin's neck, open-mouthed and filthy. Merlin hissed, dropping his head to give Arthur better access. Kissing, sucking, biting Merlin's neck, his shoulder, the underside of his jaw, Arthur closed his eyes and let his hands roam over Merlin's body. He caught Merlin's nipples and squeezed them, experimentally, gratified to hear a sharp hiss of breath as Merlin arched up into the touch. Arthur left one hand there, fingers pinching and tweaking Merlin's nipple to hardness. He let his other hand drift down the soft skin of Merlin's belly, until he found the sparse line of hair leading down to his cock. Arthur followed it, drawing his fingers through the thick pubic curls. Blindly they brushed against the heavy sac of Merlin's balls, and they both gasped.

"Please," Merlin whispered, spreading his legs in open invitation. "Arthur, please."

Opening his eyes, Arthur peered over Merlin's shoulder and watched his own fingers trail up the underside of Merlin's cock. It was hot in his hand, hard, demanding, yet velvety soft, the foreskin sliding a little beneath his hand as Arthur tried one hesitant stroke.

"Yes," Merlin groaned, bucking up into Arthur's hand. "Gods yes. Arthur." His own hands slipped back, fingertips skimming Arthur's flank, his chest, before finding purchase on his thighs and gripping there, hard enough to hurt.

Arthur stroked him again, and then again, fascinated by the difference of wanking another man instead of himself. The angle was the same, and the movement, but Merlins cock was thicker than his own, though a little shorter, the head more bulbous than Arthur's. When Arthur experimentally ran a finger over the slit (he loved doing that to himself), Merlin tensed, drawing back a little.

"It's sensitive," he breathed, turning his face back to look at him, and Arthur nodded, easing away from the tip, smearing the pre-come he'd gathered down the length of the shaft to help ease his strokes. Intrigued, he ran his fingers, again, down the underside of Merlin's cock (Merlin liked that, he was rocking up into it), and squeezed the base, listening to Merlin groan. Abandoning Merlin's nipples, he brought his other hand down to cup Merlin's balls, rolling the heavy weight of them in one hand, even as he pumped Merlin's shaft with his the other.

"Yeah," Merlin whimpered, letting his head fall back against Arthur's shoulder. "That's good. You feel good."

Emboldened, Arthur reached behind Merlin's balls, pressing a finger hard against the smooth, taut skin there. Merlin groaned, pressing back against it. Smiling into the skin of Merlin's neck, Arthur began to pump him in earnest, gratified by the filthy stream of chatter falling out of Merlin's mouth. Of course he was noisy in bed, Arthur thought distantly, watching the plump head of Merlin's cock sliding in and out of his fist. He never shut up the rest of the time.

"Fuck," Merlin was chanting now. "Arthur fuck that's good. Arthur. Arthur, yeah! Just like that!" His voice was ragged, hips snapping up into Arthur's hand, until he fell silent, froze, and came with a long, strangled groan, his head falling back onto Arthur's shoulder.

"Shit," Arthur breathed, watching Merlin's face in fascination as his cock jerked and spurted over Arthur's hand, the bed clothes, the long lines of Merlin's thighs. Merlin's eyes were shut, his jaw slack, his features screwed up into an expression of such pure concentration that it managed to look both ridiculous and beautiful. Shuddering, Merlin opened his eyes and smiled up at Arthur with such friendly, open happiness that Arthur's heart swelled a little at the sight. He might have pulled back from the brilliance of Merlin's smile, except that his own cock was still hard, straining against Merlin's back. Merlin, too, became aware of it as his eyes focused, and his smile softened. Reaching down, he captured Arthur's hands, still dripping with Merlin's come, and guided them between their bodies.

Merlin began to spread the fluid over Arthur's cock, and shuddering at the sensation, Arthur helped him, not sure exactly what Merlin had in mind, but willing to go along with it as long as it ended in his coming.

"Here," Merlin whispered, straightening up between Arthur's legs, and drawing Arthur's cock between the soft, sweaty skin of his inner thighs. "This feels good," Merlin said closing his thighs around Arthur's cock to make a tight, hot passage for him to fuck.

Clutching Merlin back against him, one hand resting on his chest, the other gripping his knee, Arthur thrust up between Merlin's thighs, slick with sweat, with come, with the fluid leaking from Arthur's cock. He pulled out, drawing his length against the crack of Merlin's arse, then thrust back in, feeling his head brush against Merlin's balls.

"Shit," Arthur breathed, fucking back up into the tight crevice of Merlin's thighs.  
"Yeah," Merlin agreed, breathlessly. He tangled his fingers with Arthur's where they rested on Merlin's chest, and rocked back into Arthur's movements, his thighs smooth and hot, growing deliciously wetter as every thrust smeared their mingled fluids, come and pre-come, over his fragile skin. Three, four thrusts later, and Arthur was gone, arching up into Merlin's back and spilling over his thighs, his balls, his softening cock.

Arthur dropped back against the pillows, bonelessly, and Merlin rolled off him, curling up against Arthur's side and reaching for his still-twitching cock. Arthur whimpered a little as Merlin touched it, gently, just-barely gusting his fingers over the sensitized flesh. Arthur closed his eyes, feeling the bed dip beneath him as Merlin stood. He listened to the soft pad of Merlin's bare feet across the stone floor, the splash of water from the pitcher into the basin, the soft whisper of fabric. The bed dipped again, and a cool trickle of water hit Arthur's cock. He opened his eyes to see Merlin cleaning him with his neckerchief. Merlin caught his eye and smiled, then turned to himself, running the cloth over his cock and stomach, then catching one end in each hand to draw it between his thighs, rocking into it, gently. Arthur's spent cock twitching at the sight, and Merlin smiled, a little bashfully. Tossing the soiled cloth onto the floor (Arthur would normally reprimand him for such laziness, but couldn't be bothered today), Merlin flopped back onto the bed beside Arthur. Still warm from the afterglow, Arthur spooned up against him, sighing. Their fingers tangled together over Merlin's chest; Arthur nuzzled into Merlin's neck. For a moment, Arthur thought, he was completely, perfectly content.

He wished he could linger forever here, dreamy with the afterglow, Merlin warm and pliant in his arms. But even now, his awareness was coming back to him. He could feel it in Merlin, too, the other man stiffening in his arms.

He thought back to the naked adoration on Merlin's face, and closed his eyes. He'd seen it on too many women. Any moment now, Merlin would make some declaration, and Arthur would refuse him (he'd have to refuse him), and nothing, then, would ever be the same. Arthur sighed, already mourning the loss of Merlin's friendship, even as Merlin lay tucked warm against him.

Merlin rolled over in Arthur's arms, and gently pushed the sweaty fringe out of Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur?" he murmured, voice hoarse and throaty. Here it was, then.

"Hmm," Arthur grunted, non-committal. He couldn't bring himself to meet Merlin's eyes, so stared instead at the window. _Don't say it,_ he thought. _Please don't say it._

Merlin leaned up on one elbow and grinned down at him, conspiratorially. "Have you ever sucked another man?" he asked.

A startled bark of laughter escaped Arthur's mouth. Lunging forward, he tackled Merlin, rolling on top of him as Merlin shrieked with laughter. They were going to be okay, Arthur realized, running his hands down Merlin's flank to find his ticklish spots. Miraculously, everything was going to be okay.

The End


End file.
